Crazy For Brew

by Annabel Chase

  I shook my head. “Keep it. When I came here, I had loads of help, and it made a huge difference to me. Let me do the same for you.”

  Micki’s eyes shone with tears. “I really hope I don’t have to wear a prison jumpsuit. Onesies always ride up between my legs. They’re very uncomfortable.”

  If I couldn’t keep Micki out of prison, she’d have more to worry about than the uncomfortable clothes. “Come on, Micki. I need to fix your hair, and then it’s time for court.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “I could really use a shot right now.”

  “I know the most perfect one for the occasion,” Ricardo said with far too much enthusiasm. “It tastes like Christmas coming in your mouth.”

  “No,” I interjected. “No alcohol before court.” I looped my arm through Micki’s and dragged her out of the shop before Ricardo could change my mind.

  The Great Hall was always intimidating, but even more so when I was there for court. When it was only the judge, the prosecutor, my client, and me in the room, I couldn’t help but feel small and insignificant.

  The judge on the bench was an Amazon called Alayna Figueroa. I didn’t have as much experience with her as the others, but, as far I knew, she was fair. Part of me had hoped for Judge Lee Millville. I secretly suspected the dwarf would be more receptive to Micki’s charms, although the feminist in me growled in protest.

  Sara Santora spoke first. She read the charges aloud, and I watched Judge Figueroa’s reaction. Unsurprisingly, her expression was impossible to read. Micki sat beside me with her ankles crossed, looking appropriately demure and contrite.

  When it was my turn, I immediately gave Micki's backstory, including all the unpleasant details about her predatory boss. I needed the judge and the prosecutor to see Micki the way I did—as an innocent victim caught up in a system that devalued her. I also emphasized Micki’s reasons for coming to Spellbound, and how our laws were different from Sparkle City. More importantly, our laws were not apparent to new residents or visitors. Spellbound had essentially been a closed society. There was no way to communicate to outsiders what to expect when they came here. It would be something the town would need to remedy soon.

  Judge Figueroa waited for me to be seated before she addressed my client. "Miss Taylor, are you prepared to take the stand?"

  Micki cast a sidelong glance at me. Her leg was jittering with nerves.

  "You'll be fine," I said. "I have faith in you."

  Micki took a seat beside the judge, and the prosecutor stood to question her. I worried about Sara’s approach. She was on the conservative side and had previously opposed my suggestions for relaxing the criminal sentencing guidelines in Spellbound. She was a shark when she wanted to be and could easily tear Micki to shreds if it suited her.

  "Miss Taylor, it seems your main defense is that you were ignorant of the law regarding solicitation,” Sara began. “Is that right?"

  Micki fidgeted. “It's true that I assumed prostitution was legal here the way it is where I'm from. Whether that's our main defense, I don't know. You'd have to ask my lawyer. That part’s her job.”

  I pressed my lips together and suppressed a laugh.

  "Did it occur to you to find out whether your chosen profession was legally acceptable before you attempted to solicit clients here?" Sara asked.

  "No, it did not. To be honest, I was so distracted by how charming everything was, that all I could think about was how excited I was to live here. You have no idea how different this place is. I mean, all paranormal towns are magical to some degree, but Spellbound truly is. You'll understand once you start traveling." She frowned. "That sounded patronizing. I didn't mean it that way. I know you've all been stuck here for a really long time. You're going to be ignorant wherever you go. There are inventions you can't even imagine. I'd hate to think you'd end up in a tough situation because you didn't know what you didn't know. You get me?"

  Judge Figueroa and the prosecutor both seemed to take Micki’s words to heart.

  "You make a good point, Miss Taylor," the judge said. "I wouldn't know where to begin if I left Spellbound to start over somewhere else. I'm an educated Amazon, and I have no doubt that I’d struggle with some of the differences.”

  "There are some crazy laws out there," Micki said. "Did you know in Rainbow’s End that it's illegal to spit? I only know because a cousin of mine was arrested for it. My whole family was shocked. As far as we know, that's the only place it's illegal.”

  The judge rested her chin in the palm of her hand, listening intently. "That is fascinating, Miss Taylor.”

  The prosecutor seemed concerned that she was losing the judge’s attention. “When you first arrived, you went to the registrar's office to register your presence, correct?"

  Micki nodded. "That Stan is such a sweetheart. He gave me tips on where to stay while I got myself organized."

  “And it didn't occur to you to ask Stan whether it was legal to conduct your business here?" Sara asked.

  "No, like I said, I assumed it was the same everywhere," Micki replied. To her credit, she was calm and assured. She wasn’t letting Sara get to her.

  "Why would you assume it was the same everywhere when you just acknowledged that laws can be different, like the one in Rainbow’s End?" Sara folded her arms smugly.

  "I guess we’re kinda opposites," Micki said, regarding Sara with interest.

  "You mean that I'm conservative and you’re…not?” Sara queried.

  “No, I mean that it's my job to be likeable, but it seems to be your job to be completely unlikeable.” Micki inclined her head. “Funny that."

  Something about what Micki said stayed with me. Micki was likeable for the purpose of gaining a prospective client's favor. To draw other paranormals to her. If someone wanted to steal Micki’s clients, one of the best ways of achieving that would be to make the succubus unlikeable. I began to think about how the potion impacted those who drank it. Begonia was so awful that she and Demetrius broke up over it. Demetrius was right—Begonia wouldn’t attract anyone else while she in horrible mode. I’d been trying to find a connection between the potion and the anti-immigration faction, but now I was convinced that was a mistake. And it wasn’t one brewery trying to sabotage another, either. Since it wasn’t professionally motivated, it had to be a personal issue. If I could determine who had motive and opportunity, I’d find the culprit.

  In that moment, I knew.

  I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long to see the truth. Unfortunately, I had to finish here before I could test my theory. I tried to return my attention to Micki’s testimony. Right now, my job was to defend her, although she seemed to be doing a commendable job all on her own. She was going to make an excellent sales associate for New Brew.

  The prosecutor wrapped up her questions, and Micki returned to the seat beside me. I made notes as Sara gave her closing remarks.

  “Ms. Taylor seems like a nice enough young succubus. I'm sure we all want to give her the chance we think she deserves. The problem with doing so, however, is that it sets a bad precedent in Spellbound. We need to remember that we’re in the midst of tumultuous change. The town has been flooded with newcomers, unfamiliar with our laws and rules. Are we to give them all a free pass? We simply can’t without our lovely town descending into chaos. The council has decided to preserve Spellbound’s character and way of life, and that includes our legal system. We’re not going to make prostitution legal simply because other paranormal towns have chosen to do so. We may have joined the rest of the world after a long hiatus, but it doesn’t mean we have to lose our sense of selves. Miss Taylor committed a crime, purposeful or not, and she needs to pay the price for it.”

  The prosecutor took her seat. I had no doubt that she meant every word.

  Now it was my turn for closing remarks. I stood and addressed the judge. “My esteemed colleague is correct. We are not obligated to follow the lead of the more up-to-date paranormal towns. We are not obligated to legalize pros
titution or allow modern vehicles or even offer electricity. Our destiny is in our own hands. That being said, I believe that we are obligated to show compassion when needed and be the guiding light for the behavior we want to see in our town, especially with the influx of new residents. Micki made an innocent mistake that resulted in harm to no one. We have the opportunity, right here and now, to help her become a productive member of our society. If given the choice, Micki would choose another path. In fact, she has chosen another path, working as a sales associate for New Brew. She came here to be free and independent of the negative forces in her life. We can offer that to her today. Miss Santora is right—we will set a precedent, a precedent of compassion and empathy. Of hope to those who come here in search of a better life. I think we should celebrate that, instead of viewing it as a failure. Instead of digging our heels in and insisting on the letter of the law. In closing, I ask that you dismiss the charges against my client as the first step toward her new life.”

  While it wasn't my best speech, it was the best I could do on short notice. I crossed my fingers that Judge Figueroa’s heart was bigger than her gavel.

  The judge looked from the prosecutor to me, debating. Once again, her expression gave nothing away.

  Finally, she spoke. "There are seismic changes coming to Spellbound. We’ve already been feeling the effects in ripples. We’ve wanted to be free for so long that I think we’ve forgotten that freedom comes with consequences." She contemplated my client. "I admire your bravery. You recognized that you were in a bad situation, and you were willing to do something drastic in order to improve it. That quality is rarer than you know.”

  The prosecutor started to interrupt, presumably sensing which way the wind was blowing, but the judge carried on talking.

  "I am not going to dismiss the charges,” Judge Figueroa said. “However, I am going to take advantage of the modifications in the sentencing guidelines that our defense attorney was instrumental in implementing. Instead of serving time in prison, I hereby sentence you to one hundred hours of community service, the specific service to be chosen by your attorney and agreed to by the prosecution.” She banged her gavel. "Case dismissed."

  Micki stared at me, gobsmacked. "I'm free?"

  "Seems so," I replied.

  "Community service," she repeated, slightly dazed. "I would really like that."

  "I already have a few ideas," I said. "We can talk about them over lunch, if you’re not busy."

  She licked her lips. "Would you mind if we stopped at the healer's office on the way? I'd like to make sure that wizard is okay. I hope he’s not too sick.”

  "Micki, that's a great idea," I said. “I bet Rochester would really appreciate a little moral support right now. He’s the best.”

  Micki smiled at me. "I don't know about that. He has some pretty stiff competition right here."

  "I was just doing my job," I said.

  “What a coincidence? So was I.” She hesitated. “Not anymore, though. A clean slate. It doesn’t feel real.”

  “This is your big chance. You can reinvent Micki Taylor and be the paranormal you were always meant to be.”

  Micki nodded slowly, the realization finally setting in. “Thanks to you, I already have a job and can afford my rent. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Thanks to you, I’m able to solve the case of the tainted brew,” I said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds important,” Micki said.

  I thought of Begonia, Calliope, and Mayor Lucy, and all the problems this potion created. “Oh Micki,” I said. “You have no idea.”

  Chapter 18

  I heard the faint squeak of the hinge as I opened the front door. The fact that it was unlocked suggested the paranormal I wanted to see was here. Although the fey lights were dim, I could see straight back to the open brewery door. The high security system wasn’t so secure right now.

  I walked slowly and quietly to the back room so as not to alarm anyone. From the open doorway, I watched Steve glide across the smooth floor, using his mop as an ice skating partner. He seemed oblivious to the world around him, lost in his own fantasy. Unlike Igor and his shovel in the cemetery, Steve’s movements struck me as sad and lonely.

  I cleared my throat and waited for him to notice me.

  “Huh?” Steve skidded to a halt when he saw me, and the mop clattered to the floor. The sound echoed throughout the quiet room.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” I said.

  He squinted at me. “What are you doing here at this hour? Does Mr. Burdock know you’re here?”

  “Does Mr. Burdock know you’re here at this hour?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’m mopping the floors. I mop at this time every night.”

  “So, did you mop at this hour the night before Spellbound Day?” I asked.

  He retrieved the mop from the floor and gripped it tightly in his hand. “Like I said, I mop the same time every night.”

  I leaned against the doorjamb. “Were you here after the visit from the health and safety inspector?”

  He blinked. “I guess so. Why?”

  “I think you know why.”

  The stubborn set of his jaw indicated I’d need to push a bit harder.

  “Why did you put the potion in the vat, Steve?” I had my theory, of course, but I wanted to see if he’d admit it.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his fingers tightening around the handle of the mop.

  “You checked out Nature’s Revenge from the library, didn’t you? The librarian said it came back with a funny smell and the card was smudged. What happened? You spilled the potion on the book when you poured it into the vat?”

  “You’re not making sense,” Steve said weakly, his resolve beginning to crumble.

  “You’re the one not making sense,” I said. “You used a potion that’s causing everyone in town to hate the mayor. She’s losing the confidence of her constituents at the most important moment in the town’s history. My friend Begonia is a train wreck. She and her boyfriend have split, and she’s on the verge of losing her friends, too.”

  “That was never the plan,” Steve blurted. “The whole thing was an accident.”

  “An accident?” I echoed. “How? You clearly sought out that potion.”

  Steve dropkicked the mop in exasperation. “I didn’t mean for the potion to fall into the Spellbound Day batch. I only intended to have one dose in a glass of ale for Tinnie.”

  “If you like Tinnie so much, why would you want to make her miserable?”

  “Because Tinnie doesn’t like me,” he shouted. “She’s lusting after that stupid minotaur because he’s got these impressive horns and I’ve got…” He looked at the floor. “A mop.”

  “So what was your plan?” I asked.

  “What do you think? To make her so awful that the minotaur wouldn’t be interested. I didn’t realize it was one of those spells that didn’t pass out of the system, until you told me. I thought it would be temporary. I don’t know that much about magic.”

  “So you thought the minotaur would lose interest once he witnessed her awful personality and she’d be free to date you once she returned to her usual sunny self,” I said.

  “Basically,” he said. “She’s here all the time after hours, and sometimes I sneak her a drink to get her to like me. I thought it would be easy to give her some with the potion, that she’d never suspect anything, but she startled me that night and I knocked the potion with the end of my mop.”

  “And into the vat,” I said.

  Steve nodded. “It splattered everywhere. I didn’t even realize it went into the batch until it was too late. I thought most of it landed on the floor. Tinnie didn’t realize what had happened so she drank the ale I gave her. I waited until she left to clean up.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything when you realized what had happened?” I asked. “You could’ve cle
ared this up and spared us all a huge hassle. We could’ve administered the antidote days ago, before things got out of hand.”

  “Because I’d lose my job and probably go to prison,” Steve said.

  “Not necessarily,” I said.

  “No, I definitely would,” Steve said. “It would be my third offense.”

  Oh.

  “The other two weren’t serious crimes, petty theft and trespassing, but I’m still on probation for the second one…” He trailed off.

  “I’m sorry, Steve,” I said. “I have to report you. You spelled the mayor. It’s pretty high profile.”

  Steve looked ready to break the mop in two. “I can’t go to prison, Emma. It’s a horrible place. My older brother died in one. I used to visit him once a month and the stories he told me...”

  I felt a rush of sympathy for him. “Steve, maybe we can find a way for you to serve your sentence here. The guards at Spellbound Prison are decent. I’ve met a couple of them.”

  “No,” he said emphatically. “No prison.” He bolted toward me, scooping up the mop and wielding it like a weapon. I dodged the first blow, crouching down as the handle whipped toward my head.

  “Steve, stop,” I yelled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?” he said with a laugh. “I’ve watched you, Emma. You couldn’t hurt a cockroach.”

  “Well, no,” I said. “Cockroaches are fairly indestructible.”

  He groaned. “Why can’t I do anything right?” He swung the mop at me again, and I hopped backward to avoid getting pummeled in the stomach.

  “I’m a sorceress,” I warned. “It’s not a fair fight. You’re only a brownie with a mop.”

  He dropped the mop and reached into his pocket. I saw a flash of metal. “Not just a mop.”

  A switchblade.

  “Steve, I can tell you’re a nice guy with good taste in women,” I said. “Tinnie just wasn’t the right girl for you.”

  “They’re never the right girl,” he said. “No matter how hard I try, they always want someone else.”